


Mass Effect: Dribbles and Drabs

by ladyamesindy



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:00:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 20,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of dribbles and drabs that appear on Tumblr and are set in any of the Mass Effect games, books, comics, etc.  This started as an unexpected prompt, but I figure I'd keep them collected here so that they can be read again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Murder Out There

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted (quite unexpectedly) by eleneripenneth to keep my brain moving on a Monday morning:
> 
> "You can’t go home yet, because you’re waiting for Cortez to get there with the shuttle. These drops are always hard, but it’s the waiting to be picked up that’s murder. Sometimes literally. "

_Dammit, Cortez, where are you?!_

Shepard kept herself tucked down behind the crate, wedged as tightly into the corner as she could.  Across the way and through the haze left by one of the Cerberus grenades, she could see James and Garrus doing their best to keep from being targets as well.  They were here, at the rendez-vous, Reaper tech stowed away so that both hands could be weapons-ready ….

Instinct had her tucking her head to her chest tightly as the explosive crack above her head alerted her that more shots were being fired in her direction.  This in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, right?  After all, she was Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, destroyer of the Collectors ….  She should be used to this.  All in a day’s work.  

Another crack, to her left this time, and as she jerked her head away to the right, she felt a sharp flash of pain across her cheek.  She didn’t need to lift a hand to it to know there’d be blood.   _Damn, that was close._   

"Commander?" 

She heard the concern, the question, but she waved it off.  "I’m good.  Stay focused!  He’ll be here soon!"   _I hope._

The familiar buzz of repetitive shots rose above the sounds of battle and Shepard lifted just enough to sneak a peek over the edge of the crate.

"They have a turret," Garrus informed her.

Shepard frowned.  "Yeah.  And it’s blocking our exit."  A moment later, she shouted, “Vega, grenades?"

"All out, Lola."

Sighing, she reached for her Widow.  Damn, this was going to be taking a chance.  It was probably just as well that Kaidan was back at Huerta.  Had he been here, he’d have challenged her on her decision.  Despite the current status of their awkward relationship, he’d always taken exception when she’d put herself in direct line of fire ….

 _Focus …_   Shepard shifted to her feet and knees and when the turret paused to reset itself, she dove.  A semi-crouch, run, somersault sort of a roll from one position of cover to another … but it worked and, better yet, gave her the angle she needed.  Shouldering her Widow, she waited again until the rapid fire slowed, that moment of hesitation, and only then did she move out of cover and take aim.

One shot straight down the gullet.  Shepard couldn’t keep from grinning.  

"That only counts as one," Garrus informed her as he moved up behind her.  Vega followed soon after.  

Shepard chuckled.  "Still puts me at sixteen," she replied.

"Damn ….  Fourteen."

"You’re getting slow, old man," Shepard teased the turian.  Before he could respond, though, the three of them recognized the sounds of the approaching shuttle.  A quick look at the landing area and they were assured it was their ride.  "Go! Go! Go!" Shepard shouted at her companions, turning to take one last shot at a Cerberus engineer trying to fix the turret.  A moment later, she was launching herself into the shuttle and Cortez was pulling away.  "Finally decided to join the party, Cortez?" she called out?

"Sorry, ma’am," he replied.  "They took out communications that last time around."

Accepting Vega’s hand to pull her to her feet, Shepard approached the cockpit.  "Just get us the hell out of here," she instructed him.  "It’s murder out there."

Their eyes met and both grinned.  "Aye aye, Shepard."


	2. Untouchable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing prompt from sevanderslice: I want F-shenko from James's point of view. He was her guard for six months and thinks he knows her pretty well. I would love to see his reaction and thoughts when seeing how uncharacteristically shaken she is after Kaidan is injured on Mars.

_“You know the Commander?” James asked as he watched Shepard straighten her spine and follow Anderson into the Committee room.  Six months he’d been guarding her.  After that much time, he figured he knew her pretty well._

_“I used to,” the Major replied._

_\--------------------------_

James was only half paying attention as he unceremoniously dumped the body of the Cerberus synthetic onto the bed.  Turning, he saw the Commander carefully laying the Major out on the one across the way.  James winced.  He didn’t look good, that was for certain.  James half thought about offering to assist, but the Commander was even pushing the asari away now, asking her to worry about the synthetic.  

Confident … indomitable … commanding …  steadfast … resolute … headstrong … stubborn.  All words he would have used to describe Shepard at any given moment.  Hadn’t he just spent six months with her on a daily basis?  As close as anyone could be to her?  He’d seen her at her lowest then, but always that heavy chip on her shoulder.  That grim determination that everything she’d done to that point had been the right course of action, the right decision to make.  The fire that drove her to keeping after anyone who would listen (usually him) that there was still too much to be done to be sitting around on their collective asses all day long.  Hell, he’d seen signs of it after the Reapers had attacked, picking her up on Earth when she’d faced off with him on the _Normandy_ , and later on Mars in battle against the enemy before she’d sent him back for the shuttle.  Fierce … focused … unrelenting.  Man, had it been a sight to see!

Which was why he found the scene before him so unnerving right now.  Liara, doing her best to get Shepard’s attention, pointing out they needed to head to the Citadel for medical attention, reminding her of the priorities of the moment, subtle hints that she couldn’t fall apart now.  The cause wasn’t battlefield stress.  James recognized that.  He saw Shepard’s hand shake as she reached out to touch the Major’s.  He heard a tremor in her voice as she ordered him to ‘hang on.’  Eyes drifting up to find hers, he noticed something even more disturbing there - pain.  Pain on a level that he wasn’t certain he would ever have associated with her before, let alone knew what to do about, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was something she kept personal, private.  

EDI called her away then, and just like that James could see the shutters slam down, her mask of command firmly falling back into place.  It was like the difference between night and day, and for the longest moment, even after she left the room, he wondered if he’d imagined what he’d seen before.  His astonishment must have shown though.  

“You saw it, too.”

James looked over at Liara who had finished hooking up monitoring equipment to the Major and moved over to start pulling data from the synthetic.  “What?”

She sighed.  “Shepard hates admitting she’s just like the rest of us.  She thinks she has to be strong for everyone else, ignore her own feelings and focus on those around her instead.  ‘Duty first,’ she always says.”

James frowned, his eyes falling to the Major’s unconscious form.  “So … what was that then?”

Liara smiled softly.  "Haven't you figured it out yet, Lieutenant?" she asked.  "Kaidan is the one man who can pull a true reaction from Shepard, no matter the given situation.  Love, sorrow, frustration, anger, hate, and more.  You name it.  Around others, she is her usual confident, indomitable, commanding presence.  But when he becomes involved ….”

James shook his head in wonder.  “She’s human,” he murmured, the realization that he’d put her up on some sort of pedestal hitting him then, “just like the rest of us.”

Liara nodded.  “She told me once … since her family’s death, he’s the only one who has ever been able to reach her on that sort of level ….”

His hand rose to rub at the back of his neck, a whispered, “ _Dios,_ ” escaping his lips.  But Liara heard him and reached out to pat his arm.  “She seems so … I dunno … indestructible?”

Liara nodded, smiling sadly.  “That’s what she wants us to think.  That’s what she _needs_ us to think.  Only Kaidan managed to find a way through all that.”

James’ eyes fell upon the Major again.  He chuckled.  “Called her out on her bullshit, huh?”

Liara nodded.  “Yes.”  She excused herself then, having retrieved the information Shepard wanted and hurrying after her to the comm room.  

James found himself thinking deeply as he remained.  He wasn’t certain how he felt about this.  For so long, even before he’d met her, he’d thought of Shepard as someone … Untouchable. Unbeatable.  Hell, she still had the time to beat at Alliance basic training all these years later!  She’d even looked death in the face and beaten it - help from Cerberus notwithstanding.  But to see her a few moments ago, looking so pained and hurt and … well, fragile ….  Sighing, shook his head and turned back towards the synthetic, lifting it over his shoulder before turning towards the AI core.  He could finish sorting it all out in his head later, but for now he had a job to do.  


	3. Assuming Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writing prompt from theladyjess: That moment when Kaidan says screw the regs and marches to Shepards cabin after their interrupted by joker almost kiss.

“You know what I’ve always wondered?”

“Hmm?”  Kaidan asked around a yawn while stretching his arms over his head before allowing them to drop back around Shepard’s shoulders as she curled up against him.  “What’s that?”

Rolling over so that she could sprawl across his chest, Shepard folded her arms and lowered her head so that her chin could rest against them while still looking up into his eyes, a sparkle of mischief in hers.  “I want to know what it was that finally convinced you.”

Kaidan blinked, brow narrowing just a bit.  “That finally convinced me of what?”

She leaned up and kissed him, murmuring a moment later, “This.  Us.  That night before Ilos.  For so long, you’d been stuck on the regs.  God knows I tried to convince you otherwise.”  She was glad to see that the flirty little wink she gave him could still cause him to blush.  “What changed your mind?”

Kaidan sighed.  “You sure you want me to tell you this?” he hedged.  “You might not like what you hear.”

Shepard nodded.  “It’s time to ‘fess up,’ Major,” she teased.  

Kaidan rolled his eyes.  “Well ….”

* * *

Focused.  He knew it was what everyone saw when they looked at him.  Controlled.  No action or reaction that wasn’t carefully thought through, considers.  Steady.  It hadn’t taken all that much to learn to be that way.  Solid.  He was his father’s son, after all.  Time at Jump Zero had only fine tuned it.  Reinforced the necessity of it.  Provided him with specific reasons for it.  Everything to that point had taught him to be in control.

But from the moment he’d stepped aboard the _Normandy_ and met Shepard, Kaidan had felt that control slipping.  Inch by inch.  Step by step.  Realization began with the Prothean Beacon, holding her tightly within its grasp after she’d thrown him free.  The slip up on the Citadel as he, Williams and Shepard had looked out over the Wards together, his thoughts sneaking past carefully constructed walls meant to contain them.  The ever increasing worry that ate away at him internally with each and every mission, whether he was a chosen squadmate or not, that this would be it.  She wouldn’t be fast enough.  Her suit would fail.  The enemy would be just enough better than she and her team and manage to end it all.  

And then there’d been Virmire.  While technically a victory - Saren had fled but not before his facility had been destroyed - it had the bitter taste of defeat tinging it.  Guilt at surviving and fear for her safety had driven the harsh words from his mouth as they departed.  Relief had him hunting her down later and apologizing profusely.  He’d known it had hurt her - his reaction, the loss of Ashley, Saren getting away.  Again. - but it was too late to change that, and all he could do was hope she’d forgive him.  That she had and so easily had surprised him … but not for long.  He was getting to know her well by this point.  How she thought.    

The decision by the Council to ground them had come as a surprise and proved to exacerbate already simmering frustration levels.  At loose ends, he’d tried to discuss it with her.  She’d listened, as she always did, but this time ….  By the time he’d pulled her to her feet, tightened his arms around her, saw both surprise and anticipation lingering behind her eyes, he’d already made his decision to forget the regs.  What did they matter if there was a chance they’d not make it out of this mission alive, right?  What had happened to Ash could easily happen again. To him.  To her.  It was time to live _in the moment_ ….

Never before had Kaidan felt such utter despair as when Joker’s voice broke in and interrupted.  And just like that, the wall that had crept up between them, holding each at bay from the other so far, returned stronger than ever.  He’d released her instantly, despite seeing the disappointment as she turned away.  The silent chant of ‘Regs. Regs. Regs.’ had pierced him deeply, memories of who and what he was inundating him.

Until a short time later when he was reminded by Anderson of all people, that sometimes risks were necessary, no matter the cost.  All the way back to the _Normandy_ he considered it.  Weighed the pros and cons.  Evaluated.  Considered.  As Joker pulled the ship from dock, while he remained at his duty station until they were well clear of the Citadel, he spent the time in thought.  The only time his attention was pulled away was to watch her enter her cabin.  Alone.  In that last, lingering moment, just before she passed through the door, she looked over at him and he at her.  Eyes met, held, and then broke away.  She was gone.

It felt like it lasted an eternity, the debate raging inside of him as he stood there, but in the end it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two.  And as he took those final steps, tearing down that wall between them once and for all, he knew there’d be no turning back.  The decision had been made.  Control had been restored.

* * *

Shepard felt a smirk playing on her lips as he finished.  “Control, huh?”

Kaidan’s brow lifted again.  “You doubt me?  Now?” he asked.  “After all we’ve been through together?”

The sound that escaped her lips was a combination of snickering and something else.  “‘All we’ve been through?’  You make it sound like it’s been forever!”

“Well,” he countered, “it _has_ been three years.”

She snorted.  “Of which two I was dead.  That doesn’t count.  Add to that another few months with you being all … stubborn …”

“Steadfast.”

“Hard headed.”

“Dedicated.”

Shepard chuckled as she pushed herself into position so that they were eye to eye.  “Annoyingly sexy and distracting from a distance.”

Kaidan curled a leg around hers, trapping both just before launching himself into the air and flipping them both over.  They landed with him above her, arms now supporting his weight.  “Controlled,” he insisted, his voice dropping into a deep growl.

Shepard’s eyes flared as she looked up at him.  “Like the night before Ilos?” she asked in a breathy voice.

“Even better,” he promised, leaning towards her.  “I’ve been practicing.”

 


	4. Getting the Band Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing prompt from Whuffiesmind: Shep (any) runs out of coffee, tea, favorite food, loses her knitting needles, or something else that helps her get through the day right in the middle of the crisis.

 

It happened on her way to the meeting with the Dalatrass Linron, Primarch Victus and Wrex.  Dressed in her uniform blues, she’d grabbed it off her desk on the way out the door, figuring she had time to finish on the way.  During the elevator ride, she held it between her teeth as she used both hands to pull her hair back.  Going through security, she stretched it and began to pull her hair through it.  She was nearly at the door to the conference room, prepared to walk through the door when it finally happened.  

The elastic band, the one thing Shepard had managed to salvage from her childhood on Mindoir, the one connection she had left with her twin sister, broke between her fingers.  So far as things went, this wasn’t the worst thing that had or could ever happen to her.  She knew that.  It had happened before and she’d dealt with it.  Numerous times.  But that was why it was such a shock right then.  When in years past all she’d had to do was knot it together one more time, she could no longer do so without turning it into something too small to utilize as it should be.  The entire band was now a series of knots, less than half it’s original size, now no longer salvageable.  

And in that moment, Shepard felt the weight of dread from her past rise up and overwhelm her.  She was suddenly sixteen and running for her life from the attack.  She was tripping in heels, scrambling to find her father’s shotgun and spare ammunition, stumbling out the back door in time to avoid the batarian slavers.  Three days she’d survived on her own.  Three days to wonder at whether she would soon be joining her parents, grandparents, twin sister, in death.  Three days she kept that band around her wrist, a good luck charm that kept her alive, until she was rescued and then could wear it properly.

In the years that followed, she kept it close.  Tying her hair back, securing it with the knowledge that her twin was with her, if only in spirit and the firm hold of elastic around her hair.  It made it through basic, only needing one knot of first aid.  Another knot, two even on Akuze, to help protect her from the thresher maw until rescue came.  Again, twice more during N7 training, but like her, it survived.  Saren earned several over those months - Eden Prime, Noveria, Ilos, Citadel.  The Collectors, though, failed to register.  The Reapers, however … Shepard had lost count how many fixes she’d made these past few weeks, or was it months now?  But, to finally lose it all because the salarians were being stubborn about the krogan?

Shepard stared down at the bit of dark blue elastic hanging from her fingers, the sadness inside changing, evolving into something stronger.  Glancing up, eyes falling upon the three inside the conference room, Shepard realized she had to make a decision and fast.  Wrex was prowling, she noted.  Most definitely _not_ a good sign.  

It took only seconds, the elastic becoming something impossibly small in her fingers.  Holding it in her teeth, she pulled the hair back at a slightly different angle and began the quick process of twisting and twining the strands together into a long braid, coming to an end small enough that the elastic would fit.  It was non-regulation, of course, but it would do for now.  After all, who would come after her in the middle of a war to enforce the dress code, right?  

Allowing the tail to fall down her back, Shepard straightened, rolled her shoulders back, tugged at her uniform until it sat right.  She felt the surge she always did when wearing the band.  Kaysey was with her.  In spirit.  In blood.  Luck would be with her, that much she knew.  Taking a deep breath, Shepard strode through the doorway, meeting Wrex with a nod and finding her way to the far side of the table.  It was time to do her job and to help the krogan cure the genophage.


	5. GO GO Wrexzilla!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from Whuffiesmind: Huge and looming over the city, people scattered in panic, Sera took aim but her finger froze on the trigger. It was a Prehistoric Wrex! She couldn't do it!
> 
> (the things that pop up into chat sometimes! lol And to think this came about in reaction to the MAKO landing in a field of flowers … (don’t ask!))

Kaidan stood at the bar, handing out drinks as necessary, half his attention on Shepard and the other half on the large vid screen.  Joker had discovered an ancient gaming system somewhere down in the lower wards (it was safer not to ask!), but it had been a combination of Kaidan, Garrus and Tali who finally got it hooked up and working in the apartment.  It had come with the one game, stuck inside the system, but it seemed to work well enough.  For the moment, at least.  And after the stress of the last few missions, it was time to unwind a bit.

“Whoa, Commander!”

Joker’s exclamation and an assorted collection of roars of approval had Kaidan glancing up at the screen.  Now he could see why.  A moment later, though, he winced and a chorus of groans echoed his sentiments as Shepard took a hit that knocked her monster off its feet.  

“What the hell?” she protested, her monster slow to rise from the debris of the building that had been used as a weapon against it.

A deep, rumbling chuckle from the other side of the room taunted, “Eat that, Commander!”

For the briefest of moments, Kaidan could have sworn he heard Shepard … growl?  He tossed a quick, questioning glance over at Traynor who had been working on another round of drinks, but she simply shrugged.  Kaidan wasn’t sure what to make of it … until he glanced over and saw the grim look of determination settling upon Shepard’s face.  Blue eyes, sharp as ever, sparking with a fire rarely seen off the battlefield except when they were alone in private.  This time, though ….  “Shepard?”

Determined.  Focused.  Resolute.  Kaidan recognized all that and sighed before crossing the room to stand behind the sofa where she sat.  Not only did this give him a better view of the vid screen, but he was also able to get a better sense of what exactly was happening in the game.  

“Better watch out, kid,” he heard Wrex advise Grunt from nearby.

“I’m doing better than you would be, you old fossil,” came the reply.

Wrex turned to look over at Kaidan then and Kaidan thought he could see a spark of mischief in the krogan leader’s eyes.   _Uh oh_.  It was enough to put _him_ on guard at least.  Swallowing tightly, he turned back to face the vid screen where he found Shepard’s monster using some sort of energy beam from its eyes to try to attack Grunt’s monster.  Kaidan had to wonder if Shepard realized just how reminiscent it was of a Reaper.

But then, Shepard’s monster was suddenly lifted into the air by Grunt’s.  “Hey!” she protested, leaping half-way out of her seat while mashing the buttons on her controller.  Kaidan could only assume she was trying to break free.  

“He he he.” Grunt’s amused rumble shook the floor surrounding him.  

“That’s no way to treat your Commander, Grunt!” Shepard chided.

“All’s fair in war, Shepard,” he countered, his own hands busily working his controls.

Kaidan saw Shepard pull her lower lip between her teeth, gnawing on it as she leaned towards her left.  How she thought that might anything other than help her fall over, he wasn’t certain.  Then she growled again, louder than before and certainly in more than simple frustration.   _EVERY_ one in the room recognized _THAT_ tone.  “Put me down, dammit!” she hissed.  Grunt just chuckled again.

Kaidan and the others around him suddenly found themselves jumping as a loud roar - both on the screen and in the room - echoed around them.  Kaidan recognized the battlecry immediately, having spent the months of chasing down Saren teamed up with Wrex and Shepard for the most part.  Eyeing the vid screen in front of him now, though, Kaidan saw that Wrex had most decidedly taken things into his own hands.  Shepard apparently noticed, too.  Snorting, she murmured, “Seriously?  You chose Space Godzilla?”

Wrex laughed and, like Grunt, the room shook … only more so.  “Hey, looks just like me, don’t you think?” he challenged.  “Besides, someone’s got to show you pyjacks how to win this game.”

Kaidan kept his groan to himself, though he could sense the direction of this game now.  Oh, Wrex would likely (and currently was) assist Shepard in defeating Grunt’s monster.  It helped that the monster Grunt had chosen was one of the more challenged skill wise.  Keeping his eye on the screen, though, Kaidan noticed almost immediately that Shepard was onto the krogan’s plan.  A moment later, Garrus looked over at him, tilting his head towards the screen.  He had noticed Shepard’s maneuvers too.  Then James.  Tali.  Liara.  Eventually, everyone watching was sitting (or standing) on the edge of their seat as they watched, the two krogan in some sort of mad battle and oblivious to what was going on around them.  Shepard, in the meantime, had brought her monster around behind Wrex’s, lining up a perfect shot … just as Wrex took down Grunt’s for the last time.  

“Come on, Commander, you’ve got him!  Take him out!” Joker urged.  

But Shepard hesitated.  As all the heads in the room turned towards her, Kaidan could see she was struggling with something, her eyes narrowing in concentration, her hands still frozen over the controller, unmoving.  “Shepard?”

And still, she did nothing.  Finally taking advantage of the inaction, Wrex’s monster, slow that he was, moved into position to deal a final blow to Shepard’s.  Without her reacting though, it was over in seconds.  A cacophony of voices began cheering, talking and asking questions all at once around them, but Kaidan had his eyes locked solely on Shepard.  As she set her controller aside, he moved in, leaning close to her and murmuring, “What just happened?”  There was something more here at play than just the game, and he couldn’t hide his concern.

She looked up at him, a sad sort of smile crossing her face.  “I just … I couldn’t.”  She sighed.  “Wrex was right … it looked too much like him, damned old fossil.”  

Kaidan chuckled and gave her a quick hug as it became clear that affection for their friend had won out over game battle tactics.  “Better to have him ‘live to fight another day,’ anyway,” he replied.  

Shepard laughed and hugged him back.  “Indeed,” she replied before turning away to accept defeat gracefully.  


	6. Atychiphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a drabble prompt meme on tumblr.
> 
> Atychiphobia – fear of failure 
> 
> Pairing: Shenko

_Atychiphobia – fear of failure_

\------------------------------------

“Are we going to make it, Kaidan?”

Had she not been so deeply serious, Shepard would have scoffed at herself.  Her?  Commander Shepard?  Spectre, N7, Alliance marine, Hero of Elysium and survivor of Mindoir … afraid?  There had been a wobble in her voice as she asked.  Slight, barely noticeable, but she’d heard it.  And if she’d heard it, Kaidan would have, no doubt.  Not that she was afraid of him hearing it.  He of all people would understand ….

God.  This was the first time in years she’d allowed any sort of doubts about anythingto show.  Not since before N7 training, before Elysium ….  Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time.  Her entire career since joining the Alliance had been one of self-confidence.  Of never looking back at the past, of making choices - the best ones possible in any given situation and set of circumstances - and moving forward.  Of believing that whatever decision you made, it was the right one.  Hackett and Anderson and others had told her they trusted her and her decisions.  Always.  No doubts or concerns at all.  No hesitations.   

But that had been before the Cerberus coup attempt on the Citadel.  Before the discovery of a clone running around and trying to take over her life.  Before Thessia.  Before the losses of Mordin, Thane and Legion.

Life went on, despite success or failure.  Shepard knew that well enough.  She’d faced both plenty of times before.  Head on.  Full throttle.  No quarter given.  However, this time it mattered so much MORE.  If she failed now, the Reapers would win and life as the galaxy now knew it would be gone.  Over.  Done with.  And the cycle would repeat again in another 50,000 years.  They - SHE - had this one chance to stop it from happening ever again ….  

The weight and warmth of Kaidan’s hand against her back broke through her thoughts and pulled her back into the moment.  Tilting her head, she searched his eyes.  His words of reassurance were not necessary for her to know that he meant them.  Believed them.  Believed in her.  Every hour, every day, he showed her that.  Lived that.  He’d once promised, “I’ve got your back,” and she now understood to what extent he would take that.

Reaching out, she touched his face, leaned in and placed a soft kiss of thanks on his lips.  

It was just what she needed.

 


	7. Tokophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tokophobia - the fear of childbirth or pregnancy
> 
> Pairing: Shenko

Tokophobia - the fear of childbirth or pregnancy  (I was kindly given permission to use any pairing I like, so I chose Shenko (in particular, Maleea Shepard) … from a story universe (post ME3) that’s in the works)

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s going to hurt,” Mal argued.

Kaidan bit back a laugh, choking on it until he was gasping for breath.  It had been like this for the better part of an hour now.  “Well, yes, Shepard.  Of course it’s going to hurt.  Pain is part of the process.”  Taking a deep breath, he added, “No pain, no gain, right?”

Mal glared over at him.  “Oh, you’re not helping at all,” she admonished.  

The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk.  “I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to be -  OUCH!”  The last was a yelp as he ducked back out of the reach of her arm.  Damn, she still aimed well!

“Oh, no you don’t!” she hissed, reaching for his arm and pulling him back beside her.  “You are NOT leaving me alone here!  Not now!”

Sighing, he moved to place an arm around her shoulders in a more friendly manner.  “Relax, Shepard,” he told her, his tone much more soothing and reassuring this time.  “Remember when I rejoined your crew on the _Normandy_?  I told you then and I’ll tell you now - I’ve got your back.”  

Mal sighed, leaning her weight against him.  “I’m … worried,” she told him quietly.

“Only worried?” he countered.  His arm slipped to her waist to capture her hip and pull her close enough to pin her right arm against his side.  Just in time, too.  He’d seen her trying to move to hit him again.  “Fine, fine,” he replied quickly, chuckling just a bit because DAMN it was hard to keep up with the former Commander Shepard.  “Worried.”

Biting her lip, Mal stared ahead, though her point of focus wasn’t actually in her line of vision just then.  “Something could go wrong,” she whispered.  “Excessive bleeding or -”

Turning, Kaidan placed his hands on her shoulders.  “Look at me,” he urged, waiting patiently until she did so.  “You are Commander Shepard.  Savior of the galaxy.  Nothing would _dare_ go wrong with you here, right?”  The fear he could see in her eyes allowed him to see a vulnerable side that he doubted anyone had ever witnessed before.  Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face, tucking a few strands behind her ear.  “Am I right?”

Mal sighed, felt a shudder roll through her, but she did nod in agreement.  She was just opening her mouth to respond when a squeak of protest had them both spinning around.  “Oh, God!” Mal whispered in near panic.

He moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight.  “It’s all part of the process, Shepard,” he reminded her.  “Everything is fine.  And look,” he pointed inside the glass cage that made up the hamsters’ home.  Softly, he counted, pointing at each one.  “Looks like seven little ones.  Congratulations, Mama Shepard.  That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It took a moment for the worry to fade away completely, but as it did, even Mal felt her lips turning up into a smile.  “No,” she agreed after a moment.  “Not so bad at all.”  

 


	8. Mnemophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mnemophobia - the fear of memories
> 
> Pairing: Shega

Um, I apologize in advance because this one might be super evil, but once I saw it, I couldn't help myself. For Carina and James: Mnemophobia- fear of memories   ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Carina is one of my custom Shepards who will eventually have her story with James posted)

 

He saw it the moment he pulled her to safety back inside the ship.  It was that same look, the one he’d witnessed all those months ago - a lifetime ago - at his Uncle Emilio’s place.  The past was catching up with her again, to the point of frightening the hell out of her.  “Hey, Cara,” he murmured, low enough for only her ears, “you okay?”  When she looked up at him, he could see the glazing of her eyes, the haze that came when the past returned, and not for the good.  Only this time, he had no idea what she was seeing.  Last time, well, he’d had to listen for a while to figure it out, but he had.  Eventually they’d gotten beyond it, too.  But what he saw right now … yeah, not a good thing.  He wondered if he ought to hail the major over, get him to check her out, see if she needed some first aid or something.

“James ….”

Her voice was a whisper, if that.  Now he could hear the fear as well as see it.  Did he dare try to shake her out of it?  He didn’t think it was the same exact thing as last time.  And really, they didn’t stand a chance of winning this war if she was less than totally there, right?  A quick glance around told him they were alone for the moment.  Cortez and Joker were busy getting control of the ship back, Kaidan was making sure all was clear.  Only he and Carina were left standing alone.  Slowly, carefully, he raised his arms until he could frame her face with his hands.  Only then did he realize how pale she was.  Her skin was as dark, if not darker, than his own and yet right this minute, she appeared nearly white as the sheets on her bed.  “Cara?” he called again, stamping down the panic that was trying to climb up his spine and embed itself in both heart and mind.  Not again! he vowed.

She blinked.  Still no change.  He murmured softly to her in Spanish, hoping that might trigger something.  Another blink.  Shit.  Sighing, one last darting look around the empty shuttle bay reassuring him, James ducked down and kissed her.  Hard.  Fierce.  He was taking a chance with her reaction, he knew that, but he was desperate to break through to her and hoping for the best.  She’d retreated so far back this time, he didn’t know what else to do.

At first he thought she might collapse against him, and not in a good way.  Her legs seemed to go slack for a moment, her body sagging, and he quickly moved his hands to her waist to keep her upright.  But in the next moment, he realized that he must have gotten through to her because her hands rose between them, pressing lightly against his broad chest, fingers curling slightly around the edges of his armor.  And in the half second before she pulled back and broke contact, he knew she’d returned because for the briefest of moments, she returned the kiss, just as hot and heated as he’d initiated it.  “Dios!” he muttered when finally she did pull back.

Blinking rapidly, Carina glanced up at him.  “What … what happened?” she asked, eyes darting around, looking for some sort of clue to answer her question.  “James?”

“I … I thought you’d left me again,” he tried to explain.  “Like that last time, in California.”

“Like ….  Oh.”  She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it.  “I guess I did.”

Tilting his head to the side, James asked as gently as he could, “You okay now?”

Lifting a hand to push a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes, Carina nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m good,” she told him.  She caught the concern in his eyes and found a smile, just for him.  “I promise.”

There were an awkward few moments when neither of them knew exactly what to say, some shuffling of feet, a couple of instances of clearing the throat, but eventually, James asked, “What happened this time?”

Carina smiled softly, though he could see weariness and … more there.  “She just … gave up,” Carina whispered.  “That look in her eyes … the finality of her decision as she just quit ….”  She looked up at James and reached up to touch his cheek with her hand.  Sighing, she gave him a more solid smile this time.  “That could have been me.  Years ago.  Hell, it SHOULD have been me.”

James shuddered.  “Don’t talk like that, Cara,” he told her.  

“My past is my past, James,” she reminded him.  “You know that.  There’s a reason I don’t go there … why at times I FEAR going there.”  She sighed then gave him a sheepish smile.  “Is it wrong to admit I’m afraid of something?” she asked.

James chuckled, pulling her into his arms for a quick hug.  “Nah.  Well, just so long as you don’t let someone like Allers hear you, I guess,” he teased back with a wink.  “Then the entire galaxy would know.  And after that, you might just find it a bit more difficult to ….”

Carina laughed as she elbowed him in the stomach, the last vestiges of the experience fading away.  “I’ll just have to trust you to be discreet then, won’t I?”

“You got it, Cara,” he replied.  

 


	9. Androphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Androphobia - the fear of men
> 
> Pairing - Shenko (default Jane)

 

She arrived early, still uncertain the nature of their meeting, but willing to try.  Unlike some of the others surrounding her these days, he’d been by her side throughout it all.  Well, sort of.  There had been that time while she was with Cerberus that he’d walked away, refused to be with her, and for those weeks and months, she’d wondered if she’d judged him wrong.  Old, hauntingly familiar dreams - _nightmares_ \- had returned as a result, only this time with Kaidan’s face running rampant throughout.  

Thane had been the first to catch on.  Like recognizing like?  He’d hinted as much.  But he’d also taken time to show her ways in which she could use that fear to her advantage.  To find a path that lead to true healing.  To make her stronger than she had ever been.  Kaidan had been the one to say that she betrayed him, but Shepard had seen it in the reverse.  Thane’s interventions had allowed her to see the common threads that united both sides of the issue … and more.

From the beginning, ever since their first meeting aboard the SR1, even after she’d told him about her past - being a Red, the abuse that had gone along with it, the unspeakable fear she still carried all these years later - Kaidan had been nothing but supportive of her in return.  He hadn’t walked away.  He hadn’t criticized.  Most of all, he’d just simply …. been a friend.  That had been the start down this road and where she had found a thread of hope even in the hopelessness that surrounded her.  

Horizon had been an obstacle, yet as things had ultimately turned out, more of a detour than an actual end of the road.  A detour leading back to friendship, to the level of understanding and communication with him that she’d felt comfortable with before.  It had taken an inordinate amount of time to get here, but Kaidan’s near death experience on Mars had shaken her to her core in ways she’d not ever dreamt of before and woken up feelings she’d never given any thought to before.  

And now?

She stood at the railing, staring out over the Presidium.  Memories began to return again, memories with his face and others.  For once, she found, they weren’t so bad.  These had the power to heal.

“Hey.”

She stiffened, straightened.  An automatic reaction, one she’d never quite broken the habit of over the years.  But the voice was familiar.  She knew it well.  She trusted it.  The instinctual fear began to fade almost as quickly as it had arrived.  And that was a key part of the test:  Trust.  It was there.  Still.  It was one of those threads that Thane had taught her to search for, to build upon.  It was just what she needed.

~~~~~

Kaidan had seen the change as he’d called out his greeting.  It hadn’t been unexpected, really, but it hadn’t lasted as long as it had in the past.  That was something, wasn’t it?  Progress?  She turned and he noted the smile, full, complete, reaching sparkling green eyes and seemed to make those delicate looking freckles across her face come to life and dance.  “There you are,” she replied, and he found himself returning the smile.  This was only the second time he’d ever witnessed her this completely at ease around him or any other man.  That they’d made it back this far was encouraging, indeed.

“I figured I’d be the one waiting on you,” he murmured as he stepped to the rail beside her, yet leaving the gap between them he remembered she preferred.  

Shepard chuckled.  “Not this time.”  Turning back to face the view, she murmured, “Do you remember the first time we were here?”

Kaidan nodded as he leaned over to imitate her posture, arms resting on the railing.  “Seems like a lifetime ago,” he replied.

Shepard nodded.  “It was,” she told him softly.  “At least for me.”

Kaidan groaned and closed his eyes.  Damn.  He hadn’t paid enough attention to what he was saying, he realized too late.  His words had been careless, unforgivable really.  “Shepard, look … I’m sorry.  I -”

But then she surprised him even further.  Had he not been watching her at that moment, he might not have noticed it right away, or perhaps it just wouldn’t have had the same sort of impact.  But in that moment, their eyes met, apologies and regret clear in both.  Only then did she reach out a hand and lay it on top of one of his.  Kaidan’s eyes fell to watch in astonishment.  He knew of her past, or at least of what she’d told him of it.  He understood there were certain  consequences from that time that  she’d been living with in the years since.  He could still clearly remember that discussion they’d had; the look of absolute fear and terror in her eyes as she’d forced herself to tell him.  Later, after he’d reassured her that it did not change one thing about their relationship - at least for him - did she admit to having been afraid it would drive him away.  It was then he’d made the promise he had failed to keep.  The one he was still trying to reconcile with her.  

“Kaidan ….”  

Her voice was soft, he thought he could hear a nervous hitch to it as she spoke, but he was uncertain.  Finding her eyes again for a long moment, he simply tried to read her expression and all that was left unsaid.  Something was happening here.  Something important.  He’d meant for this to be a meeting of friends.  A snack.  A sanity check in the midst of an entire galaxy falling apart around them.  

But that one small touch ….

He glanced back down.  Her hand, outwardly so small and delicate by comparison to his, and yet he knew she could outmatch him in nearly any combat skill, remained atop his.  Slowly, carefully, he turned his hand so that their palms met.  He heard the soft gasp as she felt the change and he darted another look at her face and found ….  Not fear, so much as curiosity?  “Shepard?”

A surety he’d never seen before except in battle seemed to take hold behind her eyes and he realized that maybe this was a different sort of battle she was waging.  A battle where he wasn’t certain how to protect her, as he’d promised her upon his return to the Normandy, but one that he knew he very much wanted to.  

“Horizon is buried.  Isn’t that what you said?” she asked.  He nodded slowly.  “Then … we’re back where we once were, hmm?  Only, now we’re just … moving forward?”  

Kaidan nodded again, the dryness in his throat making it difficult for him to speak in that moment.  Of all the things he’d wanted, expected or even hoped for out of this meeting, he could honestly say he’d not seen this coming his way.  “Yes,” he finally managed.

Shepard took a step towards him, closing the distance, bringing her shoulder up against his.  After a moment of stunned silence, she turned slightly, just enough to peek up at his face again.  The fear was there, he noted.  Still lurking, but less of a presence than before.  In place of it he found something new, something both fierce and hopeful at the same time.  Leaning in towards him, Kaidan found himself bending over slightly to hear her murmur, “I think … I’d like that, Kaidan.”  

And then, as if she’d not shocked him enough already for one day, he felt her arm move, sliding around his waist for the briefest of moments.  Slowly and ever so carefully, he lowered his arms, loosely and gently enfolding her within, leaving her an out should she decide it was too much.  “So would I,” he admitted.   And for the first time in what felt like ages, he felt hope.

 


	10. Asthenophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asthenophobia - fear of weakness
> 
> Pairing: generic Shenko

 

 _Horizon_.

Shepard did her best to put the Illusive Man’s briefing out of her mind.  She had a mission to focus on.  An objective.  One that did not include one Commander Kaidan Alenko.

She led the way through the colony, satisfied for the moment that Mordin’s countermeasures against the swarms were working.  So far, neither she nor Jack nor Grunt were having any issues.  This was good.  Hope could be found in this.  Achievement.  Success. ….

_Where are you, Kaidan?  Are you immobilized like the colonists?  Have the Collectors already taken you away?  Where are you?_

They turned another corner, found another group of Collectors waiting.  Distractions had to wait until later.  Distractions were weaknesses.  Weakness was not an option right now.  Not when others’ lives depended upon her success here.  Not when ….

No.  She couldn’t think about it.  Not now.  She had to be strong.  Fearless.  

She had to be Commander Shepard.  

It took a long time.  Too long, really, but there was no way around it.  Finally, though, they arrived at the lasers.  Wave after wave after wave of Collectors came.  Shepard still managed to fight back the fear.  She couldn’t afford to think about him right now.  About if he was lying just beyond that wall over there, immobilized.  About the possibility of him being taken up into that Collector ship.  About ….   

No!

Finally, the last of the Collectors were defeated … but at a cost.  Shepard stood there, staring in disbelief and dismay as the Collector ship lifted off the ground and flew away.  The panic began to return again.  She would scour the colony, search high and low, but she would find him.  And if he wasn’t here, then she’d track down that Collector ship and get him back one way or another ….

Weakness would get her killed, but she would save him.  After all, it was their mission to defeat the Collectors, wasn’t it?

The familiar deep baritone took a long, full minute to register and overwhelm the disbelief.  However, his arms around her, tight and slightly trembling, were just as she remembered them.  Safe.  Secure.  Welcoming.  For a few minutes, she could almost believe it was two years before.  That they were still aboard the SR1.  That things were as they should be.  And just for a moment, she gave in, allowing the weakness purchase.  He would keep her safe in that moment, as he had always done ….

Later, as she watched him walk away in anger at what he viewed as betrayal and disgust with her current associations, as she felt numbness take over completely, the weakness was leached from her soul.  Never again, she vowed.  Never again would she allow the weakness to return.

 


	11. Maniaphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maniaphobia - the fear of insanity
> 
> Pairing: Shenko

****

There were moments - over the years very few and far between, but given the increased stress during a time of war, they’d been on the rise in recent months - when she wondered how she’d ever thought she could do this.  Why had they brought her back when she was clearly so unable to do the job at hand with any aptitude or skill.  Hadn’t her death proven that?  But personal abilities aside, how was she to unite a galaxy and defeat the Reapers?  This was more than training as a warrior, it required skills and finesse of a politician among other things.  The determination of which planet or colony or even species was to live and which was to die would essentially be left to her, decided by her battlefield decisions.  But how did one DO that?  Ruthless calculus?  Those were just words as far as she was concerned.  Words to cover the fact that each and every loss of life was eating away just a little bit more of her and leaving behind a shell of her former self.  A husk of a different sort.  

And then there were the voices.  Oh, they stayed locked within the realms of nightmares for now, but as time passed and another of those closest and dearest to her lost, more hoary visions whose whispers brought no real comfort were added to her dreams.  Never could she see them clearly, though she recognized the voices well enough to identify each and every one:  Ashley.  Mordin.  Thane.  Legion.  The list would, no doubt, grow further the longer this war went on.  Each and everyone of them a dagger in her heart, slicing away yet another piece.  Each time she dreamed, she feared she would have yet another come calling.  Anderson.  Hackett.  Kaidan ….

She woke with a gasp, the harsh sound ripping the air around her as her eyes struggled to focus as she bolted upright.  The faint blue hues from the fishtank were a godsend just then, giving more than just a hint of an outline to the room surrounding her, enough to reconcile the familiarity of her surroundings.  Her chest ached tightly and her hand rose to press against it, instinct taking over in the hopes of easing the discomfort.  Cold began to seep into her skin, though, chilling her to the bone given the dreams she’d just pulled herself from.  It was too much.  Damn it all, it was just too -

“Shepard?”

Her name.  The warmth of a hand on her back.  The shifting of the mattress as he woke and sat up beside her.  “I’m … I’m okay,” she whispered tightly, refusing to turn towards arms she knew would be waiting, to seek out warmth and comfort when there was so many across the galaxy could not.

“Come here.”  His hand moved to her hip, gentle yet insistent, encouraging.  He’d been around too many times, now to not recognize the signs.  He alone knew how best to help her return to the present.  

Only this time, she wondered if there would be a return.

Turning into his embrace, she rested her head against his shoulder, curling into his side as he pulled her onto his lap.  “A bad one?” she heard him ask softly, hands moving across her back and arms in soothing patterns.

Shepard nodded.  “Yeah.”  She couldn’t repress a shudder as memories returned.  But, what if it wasn’t just dreams but something else entirely?  “Kaidan … I think ….”  She hesitated, afraid to put voice to her fears, afraid it would then make it a reality.  If she ignored it, it would go away.  Right?  It wouldn’t be real, therefore it wouldn’t exist and it would not be an issue.  “I think … I think I’m losing my mind,” she finally whispered, logic overriding the desperation of her fears.  If there was anyone she could trust this with, it would be him.  And if it really WAS an issue, he would take the appropriate actions.  She trusted him to do that as well.

One hand rose to her hair, combing carefully through the tangled mass.  “You aren’t,” he assured her quietly, the other arm tightening for a moment around her waist.

“It’s nice of you to say that, Kaidan, but -” she protested.

“No ‘but,’” he insisted.  “I know for a fact that you aren’t.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, noting the sincerity there as he spoke.  “How can you be so certain?” she asked.  “I mean … all of the things that have happened … all the decisions I’ve made … Starting back with our chase after Saren up until now …  It would only be logical that I cracked before we made it to the end!”

Kaidan sighed, pulling her close, tucking her head beneath his chin as he continued to stroke her back and arms.  “The fact that you care so much about saving as many as you can,” he explained, “tells me otherwise.  You and I both know that loss during war is inevitable.  You try your best to save everyone, but there’s only so much that can be done.  You know that … and yet you keep trying despite knowing the odds against success.”  Tightening his arms around her, he concluded, “The fact that you keep on trying tells me you’ve not lost your mind.”

“But … the voices I hear ….”

“In your dreams?”  She nodded and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before tilting her chin up so she could look at him again.  “Shepard, that’s normal.  We’ve all lost people we’re close to.  We don’t want to admit it could happen to them.  It just makes it that much more … real for us.  We not only have to admit that bad things can happen, but we have to see it up close and personal, too.  Hearing them speak to us is … natural.”

Shepard considered his words quietly for a long time, carefully weighing each word and argument against what she’d been experiencing.  She still wasn’t certain she believed him fully … but maybe, just maybe, she could believe him for now and that would be enough.  And if it got her from one moment to the next, her sanity still in check, that would be a good thing … right?  

 


	12. Kenophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenophobia- fear of voids or empty spaces
> 
> Pairing: Shenko (Jess Shepard belongs to the friend who asked for this drabble)

 

 

It hadn’t been such a bad idea ... at first.  Then she’d gotten a good look at the docking tube, at how beat up it was, and that sudden, inexplicable fear that had started with her ‘death’ over Alchera slowly returned, creeping up on her until it had been all she could do to order Kaidan and Tali to wait while she crossed.  And then, there had been that whole taking that first step all alone thing, walking back out into the void ….

She knew better than to assume the best.  There was a war on, after all.  So she was prepared for the worst.  Only the worst turned out to be so much more than she could handle.  When the docking tube broke, for that instant she was airborne and floating on the edge, so close to being swept back out into the deep, dark void of space, she must have panicked.  Made a sound.  Gasped or rasped or something.  Squeaked, maybe?

“JJ?”

Kaidan’s voice was a balm of sorts, a lifeline, a tether to reality.  Reaching out, desperately grasping for it, Jess used it as a way to find her way back.  “Yeah.”  Her reply was breathy, shallow, and had a very sharp edge to it.  She had no doubts that Kaidan would know why.

“You okay?” he asked next.

Jess swallowed tightly, but in the next moment her mag boots connected with the metal casing on the other side of the rift, pulling her firmly to safety.  “Yeah,” she repeated, though her tone still was on the raspy side of things.  She was about to move when a loud creaking groan broke through their conversation and she felt the resounding shudder through the material beneath her feet.  Oh boy, this wasn’t good.  Instinct had her whimpering before she could stop herself.  “Shit!”

“Jess?”  Kaidan’s voice was more insistent, though he kept it calm enough.  Good old Kaidan.  Always calm.  So unlike Jess and her fiery temper.  “You can do this.”  

“R-right,” she managed after a moment, physically battling herself not to turn around and look at the other half of the docking tube as it floated away.  “I can … do this.”  Forward.  No looking back.  It could only get better after this.  That’s what they said, right?

“That’s my girl,” Kaidan announced.  “You’re almost there.”

Jess blinked in surprise as she took another step.  “You - you can see me?”

“Tali and I are safe, don’t worry,” he replied.  “But you know I’d never leave you out here alone, right?  Not when I promised I’d be there when you needed me.”

Another shuddering rumble shook the tube and she heard herself whimper again.  “Dammit!”  

“Relax, Jess,” he repeated.  “Another couple of steps and you’ll be at the door.”

“You know,” she muttered, nerves sharpening her temper a bit, “I’d move a whole helluva lot faster if you were standing there on the other side of the door!  Call it … incentive.”

Kaidan chuckled.  “You’re doing fine.”

Another step and she was finally there.  A moment longer and the door opened and she stepped inside.  With the door closing behind her, it all just faded.  Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying went.  “Alright … I’m in.”

Jess heard a rustling sound at the other end and a minute later, a familiar, “Shepard?”

“Yeah, Tali.  Ready to talk me through this?”  

But in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but think, Boy oh boy, once they got through the rest of this, she really was going to need some private downtime with a certain major ….

 


	13. Isolophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isolophobia - fear of being alone
> 
> Pairing: Garrus/Shepard

 

Not much could pull Garrus from the forward battery.  Except, perhaps, the need to eat.  And even then, it was only if he’d run out of dextro protein bars that he stashed away.  Of course, if it had gotten to that point, then they were likely about to stop into the Citadel or someplace to provision.  But on this occasion, something else had pulled the turian from his calibrations, and it wasn’t rumors of Gardner supposedly being better at his cooking all of a sudden.  But whatever it had been, he was following his gut on this one … and he soon realized why.

The moment he saw her sitting there, all alone, hands wrapped tightly around a steaming mug of tea until knuckles turned white, Garrus knew he couldn’t leave her.  Oh, she didn’t indicate that she’d seen him, not a peep about his presence affecting her one way or another, but now that he’d been back with the crew of the SR2 for several weeks, he was beginning to understand her a bit more.  Well, that and Dr. Chakwas had pulled him aside one day and suggested he keep an eye out for her.  When he asked why, she’d told him, “Because she’s still recovering.”  A bit more discussion and he had a better idea of what he was facing.

So, that in mind, Garrus found himself some of the dextro food that Gardner had made for him and went to sit at the table while he ate.  “Shepard,” he greeted her as he sat.

She glanced up at the sound of his voice.  He would have been surprised to see a look of fear in her eyes turn to relief if Chakwas’ warning had not come before this encounter.  “Garrus,” she finally echoed in greeting.  

The silence between them was friendly enough as he ate, but the moment he was done, he sensed a shift in tension between them.  An edge of panic wavered around them.  It was more than enough to concern him.  This was Commander Shepard.  Savior of the Citadel.  Defeater of Saren.  First human Spectre.  

_Commander Shepard who died over Alchera._

For a long moment, he just sat there, considering what he could possibly do to help his friend - because yes, he considered her a friend.  Hell, he considered her to be _his_ savior, really.  Plucking him off of Omega just in the nick of time ….  How could he not do the same for her when she so obviously needed it?

Rising, Garrus glanced over at her as he turned away.  “So.”  That caught her attention, he saw.  She glanced up at him, brow quirked.  “I was wondering.  I’ve got some calibrations to do, get the ship into shape and all, but we should probably ... talk.”

For the first time since finding her at the table, he saw a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips.  “Need some help, Vakarian?” she asked.  “I used to be good at giving my dad a hand with the equipment back on Mindoir.”

Garrus chuckled.  Was that relief in her voice.  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he agreed.  He set his empty tray aside and met her as they walked towards the forward battery.  “So,” he commented mildly as they walked, “let’s talk headshots on Omega ….”

The closing of the door behind them only served to mute the sound of her laughter from the rest of the ship.  But at least it was an improvement.

  
  



	14. Frigophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigophobia – fear of becoming too cold
> 
> Pairing: For this prompt I have used Gillian Shepard and Kaidan Alenko from my WWII Mass Effect fic Mass Effect: The Few. While not exactly to the prompt, it sort of just jumped out at me and so I ran with it.

 

 

One of the coldest winters on record, she thought as she strode down the hall, box tucked beneath her arm.  Figures.  There was a war on, an enemy that needed to be defeated, and Mother Nature was going to start interfering, playing havoc with both sides.  Sighing, Gillian turned down another hall.  She was almost there.  It just isn’t fair.

She found the proper room and knocked, entering only after she heard the summons.  Peeking around the edge of the door, she offered a warm smile (at least, she hoped it was.  She still hated hospitals!) before stepping inside.

“Gill!”

Her smile widened.  “Hey, Kaidan,” she replied, crossing over to take the chair nearby.  “How are you doing?”

They talked for a little while about his injuries - not too severe, thank goodness.  Ash had suffered far worse ones by comparison, it seemed - before he noticed her hands fidgeting with the edge of the box she’d been carrying.  Of course he noticed.  He was as observant as she was.  Hell, it was part of their training, right?  

“What’s in the box?”

It wasn’t so much that he asked that got through to her as it was that he’d noticed her fidgeting, Gillian realized.  Handing it towards him, she murmured, “It’s for you.”  

“Me?”  He seemed surprised for some reason.  

Then again, given all that had happened between them in the past year, she supposed she could understand his surprise to a point.  Offering him a somewhat tentative smile, she nodded.  “Yes.  I came across it purely by chance,” she would never tell him that she’d gone specifically hunting it.  In these times, with rationing in force, it had cost the Earth to buy, but she felt she owed it to him, “and I thought of you.”  She nodded again, this time at the box.  “Go on, open it.”

Kaidan did as she asked, allowing curiosity to get the better of him.  The minute the lid came off and tissue had been pushed aside, he couldn’t help but chuckle.  “How did you know?” he asked, glancing over at her.

Gillian shrugged.  “Oh, might have had something to do with a comment you might have made that one mission that took us through the Alps a couple of years ago,” she replied casually.  “Or it might just be that I saw the collection you had from before the raid.”

Kaidan and Gillian both frowned for a moment, recollections of that night still too close for comfort.  “Anyway,” she added after a moment, “the point is, I know how you don’t care for the cold that much, so ….”

Reaching into the box, Kaidan retrieved the item and pulled it out.  The rough wool, knit up into a pattern of cables and knots was a vaguely familiar sight.  “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly.  He often got grief for being from Canada and disliking the cold so much.  “Did you make this?”

Gillian chuckled.  “No.  I mean, I can, but very badly.”  The smile she offered now was rather lopsided.  “I think the last time I tried it came out with one sleeve too long, the neck too tight and the hem beginning to unravel.”

Their eyes met and for just a moment, everything between them was alright.  No anger, no pain, no accusations or recriminations.  Just two friends - or maybe a bit more - sitting peacefully and remembering together.  

“Thanks, Gill,” he told her at last, breaking the spell.  “I appreciate the thought.”  Only then did he pull the sweater on over his hospital gown.

She held the smile as she rose to her feet, tightening her coat around her.  It was time to go.  Reaching out for a moment, she touched the sweater, tracing one of the cable designs down the arm.  She wasn’t surprised when he turned his hand to grasp hers in his when she reached the edge.  To be honest, she’d half hoped he would.  “Stay warm, Kaidan,” she murmured a moment later before squeezing once and pulling free.

He chuckled.  “If you only knew how damned cold it was here,” he tossed back.  

A quick glance, one last smile, and a hint at something more perhaps?  Whatever that twinkle in his eyes meant, Gillian thought perhaps it was a good sign.  “Good bye, Kaidan.”  Turning, she left the room.  It was time to get back to work.

  
  



	15. Eisoptorphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eisoptorphobia - the fear of seeing oneself in the mirror
> 
> Pairing: Shenko (Serafina Shepard)

For those who don’t know, Serafina Shepard’s identical twin, Kaysey, was killed in the batarian attack on Mindoir when they were sixteen

 

* * *

 

 

Since Mindoir, she’d avoided mirrors and mirror-like reflecting glass.  No ifs, ands or buts about it.  Most people never even noticed, though she knew Kaidan had figured it out aboard the SR1 by the end of that journey.  To his credit, though, he’d never said anything about it to her.  

Aboard the SR2 while working with Cerberus, Shepard knew Kelly had it all sorted out - or, at least Shepard had suspected the woman had.  She’d warned Shepard from the beginning that she was responsible for the psychological profiles of the crew, and  Shepard had presumed (correctly) that she’d been included in that.  But every time the yeoman had tried to approach Shepard to discuss it, Shepard had dismissed her or found ways to avoid her altogether.  It was her issue to deal with, not one to be shared with anyone else.  There was only one other who would have understood, and she would never be back.

Even after the Reapers attacked, it remained an issue with Shepard, but by that point she was familiar enough with the ship (despite Alliance retrofits and changes) that she knew how to avoid the worst areas.  If any of her closest friends - and by that point, Shepard figured Garrus and Liara both knew - had it figured out, they kept silent.

But that was then.  Coming face to face with your exact image might have been an odd, even a terrifying, experience for others, but for Serafina Shepard it had been more of a coming home.  It was only later that she admitted to Kaidan that there’d been the smallest part of her that had hoped that things with the clone would work out.  Hadn’t that been the reason behind Shepard reaching out, offering her hand, trying desperately to save her?  

Looking at the clone had been like looking at Kaysey for the first time in sixteen years …

But Kaidan had been quick to remind her that the clone was NOT Shepard’s identical twin.  As much as that had hurt, Shepard had known he was right.  Besides, her hopes had pretty much been dashed the moment that the clone had tried stealing her ship and taking pot shots at her in the shuttle bay.  Add in the whole thing with the hamster, and well ….

So now she stood at the doorway to the bathroom in her apartment, peering cautiously around the edge.  She kept her eyes downcast, the tips of her boots suddenly the most fascinating thing in the galaxy.  Funny, I don’t recall how I got that deep gouge on the ….

“Tell me something.”

Shepard jumped, a startled gasp freed from her lungs as she spun around.  “Kaidan!”

Slowly, he crossed over to stand in front of her.  “How on earth have you managed to brush your teeth,” he ran his index finger lightly over her lower lip, “wash your face,” his hand moved to caress the soft skin along high cheekbones, “or keep your hair pulled back so neatly,” his hand slid into the lengths that had fallen into the dark curtain over her back that reached her waist, “without the benefit of looking into a mirror?”

She took a deep breath, preparing a reply, something sharp and sarcastic, but she paused when she saw the look of concern in his eyes.  Softening, she released the breath she’d taken and offered him a small smile.  “Very carefully,” she murmured.  The sigh that followed was one of resignation.  “It’s so stupid, isn’t it?”

His arms were around her before she could blink, one hand tilting her chin so that she’d look up at him.  “Not at all,” he assured her.  “Were I in your situation, I don’t know that I’d be able to either.  But,” he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, “I think you know you can let it go now.”  

“That doesn’t make it any less frightening,” she told him.

His smile was one of warmth and support.  “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

Chewing at her lower lip, Shepard partially glanced over her shoulder.  Not enough to see the mirror beyond, but enough to catch the shape of the door in her line of vision.  Taking another deep breath, she straightened.  Shoulders back, head held high, eyes forward ….  Words Kaysey had told her years before while helping Shepard to get ready for the festival that fated night.  Boys would be present, they had to look good ….  “Alright,” she whispered, “let’s do this.”

 


	16. Hypnophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hypnophobia - fear of sleep
> 
> Pairing: Liara T'Soni and generic Shepard
> 
> *** The song at the end is entirely my own creation

 

It was Garrus who clued Liara into what was happening.  Oh, she’d would likely have figured it out soon enough, but Garrus had been out on more missions with Shepard since Palaven, while Liara had been focusing on reaching out to her Shadow Broker contacts.  Tracking information.  Gathering resources.  Directing whatever she could to aid in the effort against the Reapers.  Having Garrus update her on a somewhat regular basis was a kindness … or at least, so she’d thought at first.   

“She’s not sleeping,” he told her after their latest mission.  “Not enough, anyway.  It’s not affecting her out in the field.  Yet.  But ….”

He’d left the implications hanging, but Liara received the message loud and clear.  Something needed to be done … and soon.  And, while Shepard maintained a close relationship with her friends and subordinates, Liara was well aware that the commander would never reach out on her own to ask for help.  At least, not to any of those on board at the moment.  Kaidan might be another story, but with him still at Huerta Memorial Hospital recovering from injuries sustained on Mars ….

Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Liara shunted aside her duties for the evening cycle and went in search of Shepard.  Her hunt did not last long.  A quick check with EDI alerted her that Shepard had retreated to the seclusion of her cabin, yet she was not sleeping.  

Her summons was answered quickly, however, and soon she was inside the cabin, seated beside Shepard as they talked about mundane things.  Finally, Shepard turned towards her, arms folded across her chest, and asked, “Alright, Liara.  Care to tell me what this visit is really about?”

Shifting in her seat, Liara turned to face Shepard, eyeing her friend close for a long moment.  The commander did well to hide them, but Liara could see the dark smudges beneath her eyes, an increased number of stress lines around her eyes and from furrowing her brow as she focused too long on messaged from the fleet, even the thinning of her cheeks.  “Shepard, you need to rest,” she announced.  

As she’d expected, Shepard waved it off, one hand moving as if to push it aside.  “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she muttered as she rose to her feet.

“When you’re dead, or when we all are because you’re not around to lead us?” Liara countered.  Shepard, who had been turning away, froze, but said nothing in response.  Liara pounced on the opportunity.  “Shepard, we need you if we’re going to win this war.  No one else can take us where we need to go.  You know that, right?”

Glaring over her shoulder, Shepard’s green eyes focused on the asari.  “Just what the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do?” she countered.

Liara rose to her feet, but never looked away.  “Run yourself into an early grave,” came the honest reply.  “You need to sleep!”

“Liara -”

But when Shepard would have turned away again, Liara reached out and grasped her arm.  “No.  Shepard, I understand.  Garrus does to.  James.  Joker.  The entire crew … what is that phrase you humans like to use?  ‘Gets it?’”  Shepard nodded.  “We are prepared to do whatever is necessary to help you get there along the way.  But in order to do that, we need you to lead.  To lead, you need rest.”

Shepard collapsed into the chair beside her, hands covering her face.  “I … I can’t,” she whispered, near despair in her tone.  “The dreams … nightmares … I just ….”

Liara reached out, hand coming to rest upon Shepard’s shoulder.  “Let me help,” she offered.  Nodding over to the bed, she added, “Go lie down and get comfortable.  I’ll get the lights.”

A few minutes later, Liara took a seat beside Shepard on the bed.  Shepard, now curled beneath the blanket, glanced up at her.  At the suspicious look the commander gave her, Liara laughed.  “Relax, Shepard.  I’m only going to share something with you.”

Shepard’s gaze narrowed.  “What, exactly?”

“A song,” Liara replied simply.  “Something my mother used to sing to me when I was little and reluctant or too afraid to go to sleep at night.”

Eyes met and held for a long moment, further understanding passing between them.  Both had lost mothers at relatively young ages.  “Okay,” Shepard finally agreed.

Settling with her back against the wall, Liara began humming softly before she began singing,  

_Night falls slowly_

_Little Wing, Little Wing_

_Sleep comes calling_

_Dearest Little Wing_   

_Through the night, safely in your dreams_

_With the dawn, the morrow will be seen_

_Hush now_

_Sleep well_

_Little Wing Little Wing_

Liara sang through the song several times before glancing down to find Shepard’s eyes closed, her breathing steady.  She remained a few minutes longer just to be certain before rising to leave the room.   

 


	17. Lygerastia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realized I had some more drabbles I hadn't added. So I'm updating!

Lygerastia and Shenko 

Lygerastia - The condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out. 

* * *

  
  


On duty, they’re consummate professionals.  “Commander” this, “Major” that.  Very rarely do they drop the formalities to use given names, at least in front of the crew as a whole.  In front of their friends, it’s somewhat less formal.  After all, they’ve lived and died together, right?  Faced the unknown on uncertain battlefields of life.  Certain allowances could be made for that.  But still, there’s an edge of formality left.  The knowledge that, despite the galaxy going to hell around them, there’s still a chain of command and it will be followed.  When she sends him off to assist Captain Riley on Cyone, it’s “Major Alenko.”  When they meet up again at the exit point, despite the near desperation behind worried eyes, he greets her as “Commander.”  

It isn’t that they’re trying to deceive the crew, or anyone else for that matter.  Not really.  If anything, the crew is openly supportive of their relationship now that it’s back on the right track.  Tension gone, or at least under control.  The Commander is finally getting some rest instead of pulling all-nighters four nights out of seven.  She even seems more … rested.  

No, the formality is more of a holdover from the SR1 days.  The regs are there for a reason.  No lingering touches.  No open flirtations.  Duty first.  Downtime is different, but only by degrees.  Scuttlebutt has it that they can’t help themselves, but they know better.

Anticipation.  That’s what makes this work.  The knowledge that, out there, in the field or on the deck, duty first and all … they’ve got their entire focus on one another.  “I’ve got your back,” has real meaning.  Trust.  Faith.  One last thing to worry about.

But behind closed doors …  That is where actions speak louder than words any day and “I’ve got your back,” takes on whole new meaning.  It catapults them to levels they never realized existed before.  The slow, almost agonizing buildup from “look but don’t touch” explodes in a million different ways around them.  Sensations compounded by daily deprivation are amplified to heights they could never have imagined.  Professional concern shifts into a place where affection and amorous attentions rule.  “Kaidan,” becomes a whispered sigh of passion and lust.  “Shepard,” an erotic growl betraying ultimate control.  Together, they are just as determined and unyielding as they would be on the battlefield, only this battle is one of their own making … and enjoyment.

With the end of the sleep cycle, touches linger for brief moments as the uniforms return; names are whispered one last time before being tucked back behind the daily armor and hidden out of sight.  “I’ve got your back,” he reminds her with one last press of his lips to hers, and then out the door and then back to the daily routine ….

 


	18. Apodyopis and Gymnophoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay … needed a trigger to get Nano going, and this worked. While my gal IS a Shepard and James is involved, she’s not Commander Shepard. Just be warned! ;)

Maybe Some f!shep/Vega with Apodyopis? Oh oh, then I read the next one, Gymnophoria! Agh!

Apodyopis - The act of mentally undressing someone.

Gymnophoria - The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.

* * *

 

 

The end was drawing near.

Word had come from the Normandy - Earth was their destination.  The Citadel was the Catalyst.  It was time.

The Crucible was as ready as she and the other scientists could make it.  Only time and use would now be able to tell if they’d gotten it right.  But Moya had a good feeling about it as she set her bag beside her bunk.  They were ready.  

Hackett had gathered them all together.  He’d made certain that Moya would have a chance to be there at the end with her sister and her mother.  She’d worked hard throughout the war, taking on the risks he’d asked of her, the very least he could do was to let her see the finish.  It meant going into an active battle zone, but honestly?  After all of the things she’d experienced up to so far in her life, this didn’t faze her one bit.  

Taking a seat on her bunk, Moya rolled over to lie on her back, arms sliding upwards, tucking beneath her head for support.  She wanted to be there.  Her mother would be.  Her sister.  Him.

A smile pulled at her lips, her eyes drifting closed as she recalled the last time she saw him.  Things between them had gotten a bit … heated.  One corner tilted dramatically higher.  That’s one way of putting it!  A soft sigh escaped, memories teasing the outer edges of her mind.  

The sound of his breath near her ear as his lips traced patterns across the tautness of her neck.  The solidity of the wall at her back, the calloused fingers that snuck beneath her shirt and ran along her ribcage, heedless of ticklishness but desperate for reaction all the same.  The impossible stretch of the t-shirt he’d worn over muscles straining the fabric to it’s breaking point.  

It had been a favor to the thin cotton to convince him to remove the barrier.  She’d seen him without a shirt on before, of course.  Once.  Back in London.  When he’d thought she was someone else.  But this time, the muscles were more defined; the designs of ink he sported sharper, clearer; the heat rolling off his skin enough to surround her, engulf her, keep her from noticing that he was doing the same exact thing to her.  

Sighing softly as the images took firmer hold, Moya rolled onto her side, drawing her legs to her chest.  These were the memories that she would always have ….

Her hands slid to his waist, fingers tracing the edge of his waistband as she drew them around front.  The buckle stood between them, the only hinderance in the process.  But she fumbled, unable to disengage the clasp.  Of course, he wasn’t helping, his own hands mimicking hers, his lips now teasing their way across her chest.  Moya gasped sharply as his finger slipped beneath the material, gliding across her hip.  Searing heat trailed in its wake.  She whimpered his name, heard him chuckle as one handed, he was able to free her belt.  

“James ….”

It was a plea, of course, her hands still unable to do the same for him.  In the next moment, though, she felt his hands sliding to cover hers, guiding the fingers to the buckle, assisting her with the catch.  As the material fell away, she moved her hands to trace the path.  The scientist in her wanted to simply stare at the beauty of such a well shaped and toned frame.  The woman in her, though, fought back.  She had other plans for him this night ….

A sharp rap at the door to the room pulled Moya from the memories with a loud gasp.  Bolting upright, she prayed that the heat she was feeling on her cheeks was not visible in the dim lighting.  “Kahlee?”

Saunders stood in the doorway, a smile upon cherubic features.  “Come on.  Admiral Hackett needs our help in the CIC.  We’re not done with this project yet.”

Rising slowly, Moya straightened her uniform as she followed her friend.  “Sorry if I startled you back there,” Kahlee offered by way of apology.  “I’m guessing we all could use a long nap after this is over.”

Moya managed a soft laugh.  “No problem,” she murmured.  “I was just … thinking.”  Remembering.  Wherever he was at this moment, Moya hoped that James was safe.  She had every intention of re-living each and every one of those memories with him again … up close and personal.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

It was the strangest thing, James thought as he stood off to the side.  He’d been fine up to this point.  Lola’d chosen the Major and EDI to go through the Cerberus base with her, and that was fine even though he’d promised Moya he’d watch out for her.  The Major had it covered, right?  And all the while, he’d spent the time preparing.  Cleaning weapons.  Checking armor.  Making sure he had enough grenades, that sort of thing.  For that matter, he’d gone through EVERY weapon in the armory during the mission … just to be safe.

After the Commander’s return, when they’d found out that they’d be heading back to Earth, he’d gotten angry.  Fighting mad, he’d heard it called.  The Reaper bastards were finally going to face the music.  He was ready.  All he needed to do was wait for the call.

This time, it came.  Him, Lola and the Major.  Blazing their way through London.  Kicking Reaper ass and taking numbers.  Yeah, it was time.

As he suited up, he thought about her.  About the last time they’d seen each other.  It’d been … what?  A month ago?  Best night he’d had in a long time, and then he’d had to leave.  She’d understood - or said she did.  He knew her well enough by now to know that she wouldn’t lie to her about that.  At least, he didn’t think so.  He’d have liked to think she wouldn’t lie to him at all, but the way their friendship had begun, he knew that it was a possibility.  True, there’d been a pretty big reason for it, but still.

Shotgun.  Check.  Assault rifle.  Check.  Grenades.  Check.  Incendiary ammo.  Check.  He was good to go, so he’d boarded the shuttle and waited on the others.  His thoughts wandering a bit in the few free minutes alone ….

That’s when it had happened.  A peculiar prickling sensation that began at the back of his neck.  At first, he’d thought it was just the neck of his shirt rubbing wrong.  Or something maybe rubbing through it from his armor.  He rolled his neck to dislodge it.  Mission accomplished.

Only it didn’t go away.  Light, fluttery, he felt it creep and crawl across his skin slowly.  Down his back.  Sending light shivers through him in the process.  Frowning, James had stood, stretching a bit more now.  Whatever was causing this, it was distracting.  Distractions could get someone killed on the battlefield.  He knew this.  

Shepard and Alenko arrived, boarding silently.  Steve, already in the cockpit, started up the engine.  Within moments, they were exiting the Normandy shuttle bay, heading out into the thick of things, descending back home.  

And so it began.

James felt the sensation return, running along his ribs now.  He tried to remain still, to keep the others from noticing.  Hell, they were heading into a battle situation.  He needed all of his focus out there, not on whatever was ….

A memory hit.  Fast.  Furious.  Ambush style.  Her hand tugging at the edge of his shirt, the taste of her skin as he’d run his tongue along her throat.  Her fingers struggling with his belt ….   

Groaning softly, James muttered in Spanish and hoped no one could see the heat he was feeling on his cheeks just then.  Mierda!  Somehow, she’d gotten beneath his skin, into his blood.  Into his head!  Some way, after this was all over, he’d have to find her … and they could discuss this … this … thing that was between them.  Find out just how real it was.  But first ….

“You okay over there, James?”

His eyes shot open, head turning to face the Commander.  She and Alenko were now standing over by a display monitor.  On it, he caught his first sight of London since his last visit ….  “Yeah, Lola … I’m good,” he finally managed to reply, moving over to join them.  There was work to be done.   


	19. Sphallolalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (warning: I’ve not been in a flirting type situation that I know of for over fifteen years, so if this seems rather stilted and awkward, blame that! lol)

Sphallolalia - Shenko!

Sphallolalia - Flirtatious talk that leads no where.  (Maleea Shepard: Colonist/War Hero/Soldier - headcanon: no romances throughout three games)(but that doesn’t mean she can’t flirt!)

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, come on, Skipper!  You can’t be that blind!”

Maleea Shepard simply raised a brow in question over the edge of her tea mug as she took a long sip.  “Chief, there’s nothing there, okay?  We barely know one another.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, slumping back in her seat.  “Seriously?  You’re telling me you really can’t see it?  Him too?  Scuttlebutt says he’s sweet on someone, and I saw how the two of you were looking at each other on that last mission -”

Shepard set her mug down on the table and rose to her feet.  “You are imagining things.  It’s not me he’s interested in,” she protested.  “And of course I was going to look at him!  He took a shot to his arm that broke clean through his barriers and shields.  What was I supposed to do, let him bleed to death?”

“I’m thankful that you didn’t.”

Ashley jumped, nearly bouncing out of her seat, but Shepard simply smirked and turned to face Kaidan as he walked up beside her.  Nodding a greeting, she murmured, “Evening, LT.”

“Good evening, Commander.”

“There’s a fresh pot of coffee available if you’re so inclined,” Maleea advised, nodding towards the galley counter across the way, “courtesy of Chief Williams.”

Kaidan nodded his thanks.  “Thanks.  I believe I will indulge myself.”

Ashley, still rattled by Alenko’s sudden appearance, snorted.  “Jeez, LT, you need to learn to announce yourself.”  

Kaidan smirked softly and glanced over in Ashley’s direction.  He ventured further a moment later, eyes locking onto Shepard’s as he replied, “I thought I had.”

“So did I,” Maleea was quick to agree.  Kaidan was light footed, but even Mal had heard the elevator chime as it arrived.  “Not everyone clunks around in heavy armor, Chief.”

Another string of inaudible grumbles.  “You bioticky types.  Always so light and graceful on your feet.”

Maleea, eyes still on Kaidan’s, felt a grin pull at her lips.  “That they are,” she returned quietly.  The slight reddening of his cheeks alerted her that he’d heard.

“Oh, I don’t know, Chief,” Kaidan managed after a moment.  “I’ve met a soldier here and there who makes me sound like a bull in a china shop.”

“Maybe you should get lessons, LT,” Ashley countered sassily.  For a moment, Maleea thought the younger woman might actually crinkle up her nose and stick her tongue out at the Lieutenant.  It was nearly enough to cause Maleea to laugh hard enough to spill her tea.

“Perhaps some day,” Kaidan countered easily.  “Once I’m sure I’ve found the right person.”  

Maleea’s eyes widened just a bit in surprise at his words.  Was he talking about her?  His earlier comment, about the soldier and such, had been aimed at her.  Hadn’t it?  It was certainly a specific enough sort of comment to suggest it … but with his follow up aside to Ash, it also had Maleea wondering if it might not be something more.  

It took only a brief moment for Maleea to realize she’d missed her opportunity, though.  Having been caught so unaware, her thoughts suddenly folding inwards, Kaidan had glanced away by the time Maleea had recognized that there had been an opening for comment on her part.  And now that moment was gone.  Sighing softly, Maleea gave them each a smile.  “Nothing wrong about being certain about something before you take an action,” she mused neutrally.  “And on that note, I’d best get back to my reports.  Night, Chief.  LT.”

“Night, ma’am.”

Kaidan stood where he was, eyes trailing after her as she left the galley.  Instinct had him believing he’d chased her away with his ill timed comments.  Regulations had him wondering why he’d even dare believe that someone like her might be interested in the likes of him.  Either way, the door had been closed and he knew it.


	20. Cheiloproclitic

Cheiloproclitic - Shenko :)

(Cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someones lips.)

* * *

 

It never failed, Shepard thought.  She’d make her rounds, check in on her squaddies one by one, determine everything was fine for the moment before moving on to the next one, always saving a certain Staff Lieutenant for last because … well, as silly as it sounded, because of his lips.  There was something about his lips that just made her insides melt, her breath become all choppy and her pulse rate to skyrocket.  The fact that she couldn’t decide what exactly it was about his lips that was causing it annoyed her almost as much as the fact that she was, by now, certain that he knew she was reacting that way, too.

Ashley had figured it out, no doubt about that.  Last mission they’d gone out on, the Chief had razzed her several times about it.  Thankfully, it had been a mission Shepard had NOT brought the Lieutenant on.  No, that one had been a ‘Ladies Mission only,’ so to speak.  Liara, poor thing, hadn’t had a clue what Ashley was going on about, though.  Shepard had  found that to be a blessing in disguise.

But that had been a few weeks ago.  This time, she’d taken two teams, Kaidan and Garrus with her, Ashely, Wrex and Tali on the other.  Feros had been an adventure for sure, so many things going so wrong as they had, but at least they had all returned, relatively safe and sound.  It was because of this she was on her current rounds, returning to the crew deck after speaking with all of the others first.  She was determined to get through this last debrief without turning various shades of red (he’d been kind enough the last time to ignore it) and then escape into her cabin where she could fall into bed and just dream about those tantalizingly beautiful lips that seemed to do nothing but torment her - awake or asleep (which was a damned sight better than dreaming about the beacon visions, she could admit that) - Shepard approached his work station and waited to catch his attention.  

~ ~ ~ ~

Thoughts focused internally, narrowed in on the job at hand not so much because of the duty as it was to keep himself from being distracted by certain features of a certain Commander that he CERTAINLY shouldn’t be allowing himself to be distracted by, it took Kaidan several long moments before he realized that she was standing there, right beside him, waiting for him to cast his attention her way.  Once he finally noticed her, he straightened quickly, nearly saluted until he caught her DON’T YOU DARE! look (she’d insisted debriefs were to be informal), and found himself asking, “Can I help you, Commander?”

He listened to her, of course, but only half attentively.  Being around her was becoming more and more of a distraction at every turn.  Truth be told, he was afraid it was turning into SUCH a distraction that he was going to have to request a transfer as soon as this assignment was over, just so he wouldn’t find himself breaking regs in any way.  He hadn’t told her that, though.  At least, not yet.  But as he sort of listened to her asking his opinion about the last mission, and as he began to offer his insight into the specifics of that mission, he also found he couldn’t help but be distracted by the slightest curve of a smile at the corner of her lips.  

He knew what it was, he thought.  That slight scar on the left corner, the one so similar to his own.  On the rare occasion he was found to be daydreaming (FOCUSED, he insisted.  He wasn’t in grade school anymore), it usually involved how she’d obtained that scar.  Had it been on Mindoir, during the batarian slaver attack?  So little was known about that time and Shepard refused to discuss it with anyone.  Or had it happened on Elysium, the time she’d been on leave and risked life and limb to help save the colony when it came under attack?  Maybe just a freak accident during N school?  Or a later N7 mission?  

The possibilities, he supposed, were endless, though it didn’t ever seem to provoke him into asking about it.  Shepard was a very private person.  It was one of the first things he’d realized about her.  Why so easily recognizable?  Likely it was because he was the same way.  Intensely private.  People only knew what he wanted them to know.  Shepard’s luck on that front had been mixed (hadn’t she grumbled about being recognized as a war hero when Jenkins had asked her about it weeks before?), but her background was still relatively unknown to everyone.  IF he were to ask about that scar … that tiny, beautiful, tantalizing mark that he found so intriguing, would she tell him?  

~ ~ ~ ~

Shepard felt the heat rising to her cheeks once again and quickly stammered, “I … I should probably … go,” before she turned away to leave.  He’d caught her staring again; that mark, those lips drawing her eyes to it like a moth to flame.  

Kaidan reached out and touched her arm before she could walk off.  “Commander … wait,” he pleaded.  

She paused, half turned but her back was to him.  She wasn’t one to panic!  Why did she always end up this way?  What was it about him - his LIPS for God’s sake! - that drew her so completely in and turned her into something resembling a bumbling teenage girl?  “Yes?”

Kaidan dropped his hand and for just a moment, he thought he saw her shoulders sag.  That was … different.  Could it mean …?  “I was going to take a break and get a cup of coffee.  Care to join me?”  It was a risk.  He knew that.  But in the end, it was simply one officer asking the other to have a cup of coffee.  No harm there, right?  No breaking of the rules?

Slowly, Shepard turned back to face him, hope beginning to build up in her chest, tightening like an elastic band stretched taut.  “I think I’d like that, … Kaidan.”

Kaidan felt the corner of his lips turn up as she used his Christian name; saw hers echo the movement just a moment later and nearly gasped in astonishment at how the subtle motion seemed to make her appear just a bit more at ease.  Gesturing beyond her in the direction of the galley, he replied, “After you, then, … Shepard.”  

 


	21. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few things about Carina Shepard. 1) She's my Shega Shepard 2) Her story is still in organizational stages 3) This part is set during the 'house arrest' phase of her story (but you'll have to wait for the story for further details!)

James and Anyone  

Flowers   - James and Carina Shepard

 

* * *

 

 

There was one thing James always did whenever he visited home.  Always.  No matter the purpose for his visit, the weather conditions, or anything else for that matter.  Certain things just could not go left undone.  Memory was something he valued more than anything, and to not do this would be to deny those memories.  

Carina walked beside him.  Out of habit (she was supposed to be under house arrest, after all) or for other reasons altogether (protection, though he and she both knew she could take care of herself even without any of her weapons or gear), he wasn’t certain, but there was something that just felt … right about it.  Beside him, not leading.  She wasn’t his Commander at present which was good in a sense, because if he’d had to ask her permission to do this, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to make her understand the importance.  Better to just do it and explain later if he had to.  

Tio Emilio hadn’t said a word as they left the house that morning.  Neither had either of his cousins.  Being as they were family, they knew well enough what his plan of action would be this morning.  The Commander, not so much, but he was coming to discover that she was as intuitive as she was a hell of a leader, so it didn’t surprise him that she remained silent as they walked along and just went with the flow.  He didn’t even consider that it was putting him into a position of leadership for that moment in time.

Their destination wasn’t far; certainly not for soldiers like them.  A couple of miles was nothing once you got used to daily runs in basic, right?  They made their way through town, stopping only once.  A store on the far edge of the market district.  Flores, the window read.  He knew the place well.  The woman who had been running the shop since he was a kid was still working away behind her counter.  The minute he stepped inside, she saw him and smiled.  Recognition.  Not only the face, even as scarred and worn as it now was some twenty-odd years later, or even the ink he now sported, but the personality as well.  She was as familiar to him as she was with Tio … which also meant she also knew his purpose.  Without a word, she stepped over to one of the displays and grasped two small bouquets.  When she handed them over, he handed her a credit chit.  Transaction complete.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Carina stood quietly to one side, keen brown eyes observing everything around her.  Occupational hazard as it was, it also served to provide her with the tiny details that would help her determine what was happening.  Flowers.  This early in the day, they were all over the room, displays of vibrant colors, the sweet and natural perfumes wafting about that seemed to be in such contrast to the urban environment around them.  So far, it was clear to her that this was a routine for both parties involved.  The older woman behind the counter had been at ease within seconds of looking at James.  The silent communications between them told Carina more about a shared past, probably, than anything else might have in that moment.  When James finally turned back towards her and nodded towards the door, Carina exited first, stepping to the side until he joined her and began leading them away once more.    

Another short walk led them out of town to the south (had they been going north, Carina wasn’t certain she’d have been able to go the distance with him and wouldn’t THAT have been awkward to explain just now), eventually guiding them to what obviously was a cemetery.  This one, though, was different from those Carina had grown up around.  She’d lived her early life in the heart and center of San Diego - overcrowded, barely space enough to breathe let alone really live.  There were cemeteries there too, of course, but none so wide open and (by comparison) spacious as this one.  Here there were trees, gravestones (for those who could afford them) weren’t piled almost one atop the other in an effort to find a place to put the urns of ashes folks tended to bury these days in order to save space.  And here, she noticed immediately, the air was … fresh.  Relatively clean.  No scents of oil or decay or other rot that the city had to offer at every single turn.  No, out here, in this place, Carina could actually find the peace that one might be led to expect from journeys into the afterlife.

James seemed unaffected by all of this, though, and so she remained silent, following beside him.  When he did come to a stop at last, Carina found herself almost startled by the scene before her.  Two stones, side by side.  Simple enough in their appearance, yet it didn’t take a huge leap of logic for her to sort it all out.  Angelita Vega.  Theresa Vega.  The dates told the rest.  Carina chanced a side glance at him.

James looked down at her.  “My mom,” he replied to the silent question, gesturing towards Angelita’s stone.  Then the other.  “My abuela.”  Kneeling, he placed one of the tiny bouquets in front of each stone.  His mother received the one with the purple blooms, his grandmother the one with yellow.  It was one of those rare contradictions, she thought.  To see such a large man, one so fine tuned and specially trained as he was, turned into … well, a weapon, really; seeing him move with such grace and gentleness just then seemed almost a shift in time and space.  Then again, in the short time (less than 24 hours!) they’d been at Tio Emilio’s house (he’d already insisted she call him that, too, and Carina hadn’t the heart to refuse him) she’d seen it on a variety of levels.  When introducing her to his family.  While teasingly tugging on one of his cousins’ braids until she turned and swatted at him in retaliation, catching him hard on his upper arm … then promptly squealing as he reached for her and pulled her into a huge bear hug.  Hugging Tio Emilio in affectionate greeting after so long of a separation because of duty.  Why it should surprise her here, Carina had no idea.  

Kneeling beside him, habit had Carina reaching out to prop the purple flowers up just a bit better against the stone.  James’ chuckle caught her off guard.  “Purple was her favorite color, y’know?” he murmured.  

Carina smiled over at him.  “And yellow was your abuela’s?” she guessed.

He nodded.  “Yeah.”  A hand rose and rubbed at the back of his neck for a moment, a gesture that she’d seen before with another male friend and one she knew tended to signify embarrassment, though she couldn’t understand why in this instance.  “It’s silly, I suppose ….,” he began.

Carina frowned.  “What is?” she asked softly, voice filled with encouragement.  She knew so little about him … given the events that had drawn them close like this, it would be nice to know something personal about him.  “Bringing flowers to remember people you cared about?  How is that silly?”

“No … not so much that, just ….”  He sighed and Carina saw him look up towards the sky, only a few light clouds at the moment.  “Whenever I think of my mom, I always remember her wearing this frilly apron decorated in purple flowers.  She loved to cook.  Only she could give abuela a run for her money in the kitchen.”  He chuckled, a memory obviously catching him as he stared off into the distance.  

Carina felt a pull of jealousy at that, but squashed it down quickly.  “And your abuela?” she asked quietly.

Rising, he remained silent for a time before offering her a hand to assist her to her feet.  Carefully, Carina accepted it, though given what they’d been through to make it safely to this point, she knew it was ridiculous to worry about intentions.  He was a fierce, proud and protective warrior, as evidenced by the success of their escape from Tokyo.  And yet that gentle side she’d witnessed before continued to peek through in odd moments such as this.  

“Abuela was like sunshine,” he finally explained.  “I’d go over to her house and walk inside … I don’t know how to describe it.”  He gave her a quick look.  “You walked inside and things just felt … brighter.  Better, somehow.  Yellow seemed to be a good color for that.”

Carina smiled and stood.  “That sounds nice,” she agreed as they turned to leave.  

The journey back through town was silent, both finding company with their own thoughts, until James grabbed Carina’s hand and pulled her across the street unexpectedly.  Carina’s instinct was to glance around them, heart beginning to pound with adrenaline in search of whatever the cause for concern was.  She quickly realized, as James gestured for her to wait outside the building, that no one was attacking.  “Gimme just a second,” he told her.  Carina didn’t even have time to nod before she was standing alone.  She glanced at the sign and felt confusion pulling at her features.  Flores.  They were back at the flower shop.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Gracias!” James called over his shoulder as he exited the building.  A quick look assured him that Carina hadn’t gone anywhere.  That was a relief!  Only after he’d ducked inside did he even begin to think that Anderson might well have his head if anything should happen to Shepard with him out of range to protect her.  “Sorry about that,” he told her with a sheepish grin.  “Guess I didn’t think before reacting.”

Carina chuckled.  “No harm done,” she replied.  They began walking again.  He saw her tilting her head, glancing over to try to see what he’d gone inside to get, but he kept his left arm at his side.  “Okay,” she continued after a moment, her eyes shifting from understanding to a slight glare of consternation.  “Going to tell me what’s going on, Lieutenant?”

James nearly laughed aloud at the switch.  She always called him by his rank when she was irritated with him.  Occasionally, it would be Vega, particularly if there were other people around, but seeing as they were pretty much alone right now ….  Reaching out with his right hand, he captured hers and began walking faster.  “In a minute,” he promised, pace steadily increasing.  She kept up well enough, no tell tale breathing heavy to indicate she was out of breath or anything (Dios!  She’d kill him if he dared suggest such a thing!).  

“Vega!”

He chuckled as he led her along, tugging lightly on occasion to hint that she needed to keep up.  Ignoring her sputtering attempts to protest and half-hearted tries at slowing him down.  Within a few minutes, they were there anyway, climbing up the rise, looking out over the dunes at the Pacific.  He heard her gasp softly, as he’d suspected she might.  She might play the fierce and tough Commander most of the time, and hell, he knew she could walk the walk as well as talk the talk … but that said, he’d also suspected that there were ways to reach through all that.  This was one.  The other, he hoped, he would soon find out.

“James ….”

He grinned down at her.  “Figured from all the things you’d told me so far that you hadn’t seen the beach much when you were a kid.”

“I …”  She looked up at him and gave him a somewhat bemused smile.  “You were right,” she agreed.  Sighing softly, she shook her head in amazement.  “It’s difficult to believe I used to live an hour from all this and never even knew it was here ….”

“Never?”  He watched her shake her head.  Grasping her hand a bit tighter, he began leading the way down to the water’s edge.  “At least we can fix that part,” he told her.  “Oh, and here,” he finally pulled his left hand around so she could see the bright orange flower he held.  “That’s for you, too.”

James turned sharply when he heard a sort of squeaking noise to find her staring down at the flower.  To him, she almost seemed afraid to touch it.  “What?” he asked, considering all possibilities.  “Don’t tell me … you’re allergic?”

Wide chocolate brown eyes lifted to meet his.  “No!  It … it’s not that at all!” she insisted, finally reaching over to touch the bloom with only the slightest hesitation.  “I just … no one’s ever … I ….”  Sighing in exasperation, she shrugged her shoulders.  “No one’s ever given me a flower before,” she finally finished.

James chuckled.  “Is that all?”  She nodded.  “Well, come on, Cara,” he told her, pressing the flower into her hand before placing his hand at her back to lead her down the beach.  “Now you can enjoy two firsts.”  To say he felt rather pleased with himself to be able to catch her off guard like that would be an understatement, he supposed.  He tried to not look too smug.

“What kind is it?” she asked as they walked.

“Ahhh, now let me tell you about my favorite flower,” he announced with a grin.  “El fuego lirio de tigre.  The fire tiger lily.  Bright and fiery, hot tempered but with a hint of steel beneath.”  He flashed her a grin.  “Not unlike a certain Commander I know ….”

 


	22. Breathe Again

FemShenko, 10  Breathe Again

 

* * *

 

 

Silence was bliss, so the old saying went.  

Curled up in bed, Shepard lying beside - well, more like on top of - him sleeping, chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm that indicated deep sleep, Kaidan thought there was no more beautiful sound than the light rattling echo of air as it entered through her nose, filled her lungs and exited the same way.  The occasional soft snore was welcome as well, even if she wouldn’t acknowledge it existed.  It also went (to his way of thinking) a long way to prove that Cerberus didn’t know, or at the very least couldn’t fix, everything.  

Three years,  he mused quietly.  The first two had passed in such a pain-filled haze thanks to the Collectors, hidden carefully away though most had known about it.  The last one he could now admit was more because of his own stubbornness.  But finally, FINALLY, he felt as if he could breathe again.  That ever present ache in his chest, as if his lungs could just not take in enough air, the one that had hit him the moment he’d yanked open the door to the last escape pod and found only Joker inside of it, was now completely gone.  It had been an ever constant companion over the years.  Only now did he feel as if he could he take a breath deep enough to allow him to dare to live fully again.

Absently, his hand rose to stroke through the strands of coppery silk, tangling his fingers in the softness there.  Real enough.  His eyes drifted down to count the spattering of freckles along her cheeks, but he lost count after one hundred.  Part of him wished she would open her eyes so he could see the emerald sparkle that only hours before had glanced down the barrel of a pistol aimed directly at him.  He’d held his breath again in that moment, but though her eyes had held the hard edge that Commander Shepard was famous for, she’d allowed her trust of him to show by lowering first.  It was then that he’d known ….

“Squeeze any tighter and I won’t be able to breathe!”

Her words pulled him back, eyes blinking as he realized his arm had curled tight around her middle, holding her to him.  Releasing her, an embarrassed chuckle escaping, he breathed, “Sorry.”

Shepard pushed herself up on one elbow, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on his lips.  “Must’ve been some dream,” she prodded gently, settling to rest on arms folded across his chest, her eyes meeting his.  

Kaidan shook his head.  “No dream,” he told her, one hand still moving along her face.  He saw her lean into his touch and it brought a smile to his lips.  “Just … remembering.”

Quirking a brow, she hedged, “That bad?”

Shifting, he pulled himself and her along with him into a seated position, pillows at his back.  “That good,” he murmured into her ear, trying to take a more positive spin on things.  She had so many other things to worry about right now, most especially a galaxy to save, he’d be damned if he was going to burden her with fears that were, for all intents and purposes, now gone.  

Shepard chuckled as he nuzzled her neck, squirming in his arms as he lowered to where neck and shoulder joined.  She hated being ticklish there!  “K-Kaidan!” she yelped.  “Stop it!  I - Oh gosh … Dammit, I can’t breathe when you … d-do that!”

Taking a deep breath, Kaidan ceased his actions, opting instead to just sit with her safely wrapped in his arms.  This would be just as good.  “That’s okay,” he murmured softly.  “I can now, for both of us.”  

 


	23. Tarantism

Tarantism - The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Though the apartment provided plenty of room for them all to get suited up and prepared for the mission to the spectre archives, in some ways Kaidan felt more closed in than he did aboard the Normandy.  It wasn’t so much a physical space thing, but more of a feeling.  He almost laughed at himself for that as he secured his armor.  What was it Shepard had once said?  Back in the SR1 days?  If I want an opinion from the heart, I go to Williams.  If I want an opinion from the head, I go to Alenko.  Or something like that, anyway.  But that had been before … and well, yeah.  Feelings were now involved, safe to say.  

Which was why he turned now and began heading upstairs to her room.  The others were all ready or near ready and gathering together over by the bar, but there was still a bit of time before they would depart.  He had the chance to see Shepard, to see if she’d talk to him.  There was something wrong, he could sense it, and he knew that going into a mission with that sort of distraction could be devastating.

Pausing to knock at her door, he called out, “Shepard?  Can I come in?”  

He was surprised when she arrived at the door and opened it for him.  “Hey, Kaidan.”

Stepping inside, he found that she’d not even started getting into her armor.  Yeah, something was definitely wrong.  “Hey,” he murmured, leaning over to brush a kiss against her forehead.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, turning towards the bed and taking a step in that direction.  “I -”

But Kaidan caught her, his hands resting at her shoulders and turning her towards him.  “I know you better than that, Shepard,” he reminded her gently.  “Now, what’s wrong?”

In typical Shepard fashion, when facing something personal she didn’t want to discuss just then but being called out on it anyway, she pulled away from him with a large eye-rolling motion.  Kaidan allowed her to go, but followed after her as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed.  

“Something’s been troubling you ever since we returned from the casino,” he observed as she sat.  He remained standing for now.  

“You’re imagining things,” she muttered, but she didn’t flat out deny it, he noticed.

“Serafina,” the use of her first name was a special thing … one he didn’t pull out except on very rare occasions.  His use of it now likely told her more than she wanted to know.    

When she looked back up at him (and use of her name had all but guaranteed catching her attention), he began to understand.  It had been a long time since he’d witnessed that level of pain in her eyes (Horizon notwithstanding).  This was something else … something older, something deep.  From her past.  Dropping to a knee in front of her, he lifted a gloved and armored hand to her cheek.  “What is it?”

She was fighting back tears now (and winning, he noted.  Never let it be said that tears could best Commander Shepard unless she allowed it to happen), though he saw her lip beginning to darken, her teeth nearly cutting through the skin as she tried to fight it.  “I …,” she paused, a raspy laugh escaping, harsh in sound.  A sigh of anger or frustration.  “Never mind,” she tried to pull away as she replied, “it’s stupid.”

But Kaidan wouldn’t let her go.  He didn’t move, didn’t force her to stay, simply remained kneeling in front of her, blocking her avenues of escape.  That she didn’t take the only remaining one behind her and across the bed told him much of her state of mind.  “No,” he insisted.  “Never stupid.”

Sighing again, she attempted to glare up at him, but the harshness of it was lost behind the gratitude he saw there.  She wanted - no, needed - to say this.  “I … I was just ….”  Her eyes held his.  “I’d hoped we’d get a chance to dance together is all,” she finally told him softly.

Dance?  And then suddenly, he was drifting back through time, memories from their very brief first encounter sneaking up on him.  Discussions from their time aboard the SR1.  “I thought you couldn’t dance because of the memories?” he murmured, rising to his feet again, his hand reaching to take hers.  

Not taking her eyes from his, she smiled through pain.  “I haven’t,” she explained.  “Not for a very long time … but I … I wanted - want - to try.  Again.  With you.”

Kaidan couldn’t feel anything but humbled by her words.  He understood all too well the significance of it.  Tugging gently at her hand, he pulled her to her feet.  “I tell you what,” he said quietly as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight for just a moment, “when we get back after this … I will take you dancing.  Anywhere you want.  Just you and me.  Sound good?”  

He could see so many things in her eyes now.  Emotions she held back from nearly everyone else, but that he had learned how to read over the years.  Pain.  Hope.  Gratitude.  He saw the progression from one to another until finally, she was nodding and sniffling through a small laugh and a hint of a smile.  “Sounds good,” she agreed.  

And almost as soon as she’d spoken, he saw the old familiar Shepard resolve return and he knew they’d passed the turning point.  She would be okay.  She would get through this mission.  This time when he leaned over to press a kiss to her skin it was to her cheek.  “Good.  Now let’s get you armored up.  We’ve got an identity thief to catch first, remember?”

Using her hand to shove his shoulder away, he over exaggerated his reaction, adopting a feigned look of injury and hurt.  Again she rolled her eyes.  “Go on,” she told him, her lips still curved upwards in a tolerant smile.  “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he countered with a smirk and a salute.  However, as he turned and left the room, he began humming a catchy dance tune … and heard her laugh.

 


	24. Strikhedonia

Strikhedonia - The pleasure of being able to say “to hell with it”.

* * *

 

“Shepard, I need your input into the -”

Kaidan came to a full halt - verbally and physically - as he entered the cabin.  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find walking in unannounced (but then again, she’d told him it was their cabin now, so he didn’t have to announce himself anymore, right?), but surely it hadn’t been this.  Mouth suddenly dry as a desert, eyes widening with every ‘step’ she took towards him, he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus.  “Um … Shepard?”  Shit!  Did his voice just crack?

“Hmmmmmmm?”

The soft, drawling questioning sound did nothing more than alert him to the fact that she had heard him.  Closer and closer she moved, but her focus was clearly on what she was doing.  Yet, all he could do was stand there, just inside the door, staring down at her.  “I …”

He heard her chuckle softly.  Clearly, despite not looking over in his direction, she was hearing his reaction.  A moment later, she shifted sharply, startling him out of his dumbfounded state.  Before he could stop himself, he hurried over beside her, his hands coming to rest along bare legs.  “Shepard, you’re going to … hurt yourself.”

He glanced down to find cerulean eyes staring up at him.  Loose locks of raven hair had pulled free from her utilitarian bun and were touching the ground.  “Kaidan, let go,” she instructed him.

But he didn’t.  “Shepard, you’re going to -”

“Kaidan.  Let.  Go.”

The command was stronger in her tone this time, and he couldn’t help but follow.  Releasing his hold, he watched in utter fascination as long limbs folded over, lowering slowly to the floor until finally her feet once more balanced the rest of her body.  Only then did she stand up straight.  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she inquired, a small smirk at her lips as she turned to face him.  “You should have seen me and Kaysey when we were kids.  There was this one time when we both walked on our hands along the fence bordering our farm.  Grandpa liked those old wooden split rail fences, you see, and ….”

Kaidan tuned out the story, his entire focus on her.  Relaxed.  Relatively happy.  Talking about her youth, her childhood with her twin sister as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  Completely ignoring the pain of the past.  Here.  In the middle of a war that could destroy the galaxy if they did not win, she had found some sort of respite from it all.  There was a certain irony there that did not escape his notice.  

It took him a moment and a curious stare from her before Kaidan realized that she’d stopped speaking.  She must have asked a question because she seemed to be waiting for some sort of response.  “Um, sorry?” he hedged, a sheepish smile crossing his face.  “I was … um … distracted.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him as arms folded across her breast.  Looking down at herself, she asked, “Is it the tank top or the shorts?”

After all this time, the good and the bad, after committing himself to her once again with no doubts or hesitations, Kaidan still blushed at her words.  Reaching out, he grasped her waist and pulled her to him with his free hand.  Taking a moment to give her a thorough and very sound kiss, he murmured, “Actually, it was seeing you so relaxed.  I thought you came up here to work on reports.”

Rolling her eyes, Shepard reached over and grasped the datapad in his hand and tossed it aside before dropping her hands to tug at his, pulling at them to get him to follow her over the short distance.  “Hackett can wait another hour for the reports,” she told him.  Crouching down, she began pulling at the laces of his boots.  “Come on.  I need a partner for this.”

“You … you do?”

Grinning up at him, she lifted his leg and removed the first boot.  “Sure.  Everyone needs a partner in crime, right?  Besides,” she waggled her eyebrows at him and he couldn’t hold back a laugh, “I hear biotics have really good balance skills.  Almost as good as N7 Infiltrators who take on the Reapers face to face.”

Kaidan laughed.  Reaching down for his second boot, he brushed her hands away and loosened it himself.  “You know, Shepard, if you’re wanting to try kissing while upside down, all you have to do is say so,” he reminded her teasingly.  “But those reports won’t write themselves.”

She rose to her feet and used one hand to push him against the wall.  “Kaidan,” she murmured, leaning in towards him, her voice dropping nearly an octave, the seductiveness of the tone causing his stomach to flip a time or two, “to hell with the reports and to hell with Hackett just now.  Do you have my six or not?”

Tossing the second boot aside, Kaidan reluctantly pulled back, taking a couple of strides away from her.  “Ready when you are,” he told her.  

Eyes on her, he watched carefully as she nodded, stepping over beside him.  It had been a very long time since he’d last done anything like this, so he watched as she balanced herself on her hands, the tips of her feet rising until the legs were straight above, curved only slightly towards the wall behind her, toes pointed and barely touching.  A moment later, he followed suit.  His attempts at least were successful, if not so graceful as hers, but in the end it didn’t matter.  All that mattered in that moment was the chance to take a moment to themselves to do whatever they wanted.  What more could they ask for?

 


End file.
